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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045131">Warning Sign</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/pseuds/Nixie_DeAngel'>Nixie_DeAngel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brothers teasing brothers, Canon Compliant, Extra Treat, F/M, Fluff, Fun, Happy, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Wolffe likes to troll people, soft, wolffe pov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:07:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/pseuds/Nixie_DeAngel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s wrong with your Commander, <em>vod’ika</em>?” Wolffe asks, rough and low, as he settles in next to the head medic of the 41st Elite Corps. Though his eyes never stray from where his batch brother is currently smacking his forehead against his helmet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-1004 | Gree/Luminara Unduli</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Star Wars Rare Pairs 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Warning Sign</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightstream/gifts">brightstream</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hope you enjoy this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong with your Commander, <em> vod’ika</em>?” Wolffe asks, rough and low, as he settles in next to the head medic of the 41st Elite Corps. Though his eyes never stray from where his batch brother is currently smacking his forehead against his helmet. </p><p>“Accidentally walked in on the General,” Ern answers shortly. “Muttered something about tattoos as he stumbled by.” He pauses in checking that the med supplies he’d requested had actually arrived, and not <em> mysteriously </em> disappeared before they could arrive. Karking pirates and raiders, he thinks, hitting supply ships more and more frequently as the war drags on. </p><p>“What’s that got to do with,” he pauses and waves a hand over towards what Gree is doing. “<em>That</em>.”</p><p>Glancing up, Ern moved to rub his hand against the buzzed hair on the sides of his head and stared for a long moment. “You’d have to ask Zupp or Frosty. I think they were with the Commander just before... <em> this </em> happened to him.”</p><p>Glancing at his vod, Wolffe nodded once, made a low throaty sound before standing up and went off to search for the head scout and Lieutenant. It takes him a while, but he does eventually stumble across them, cackling to themselves at the side of a the mountain the 41st and Wolf Pack had made their base of operations once they’d cleared this part of Dantooine, as they resupplied and tended to the both the mechanical patches their ships would need, and the tending to the numerous troopers that had been doing nothing but none stop fighting for the last three weeks. </p><p>“Attention.” Wolffe calls out, sharp, and maybe a little mean — he can’t help but let his lips curl into an amused smirk as he watches them snap to attention quickly. Kark him, but sometimes messing with the younger brothers of other corps and battalions was one of the few joys he got without a vibroblade or blaster in his hands.</p><p>He waits till there standing, backs straight and buckets hazardly shoved on. “Stand down,” he rumbles out after a beat, letting them sweat. He just catches the soft curses they mutter underneath their breath, but he lets it slide.</p><p>Just this once.</p><p>Next time, they won’t be so lucky. </p><p>“What’s wrong with your Commander?” He watches them shift, awkwardly for a moment, before he lets out a low, warning sound from deep within his chest. And just like with his own troopers, brothers, they break, fold to his will.</p><p>“We were reporting to General Unduli,” the trooper on the left starts. </p><p>“But the General, well,” the other cuts in, shifting more pronounced as he makes a face at his vod. “Well, she’d, um, ripped? The back of her, well, there was a gash along the back of the General’s clothing.”</p><p>“Not enough to cause serious harm,” the other quickly assures.</p><p>And it is a reassurance. Wolffe’s been around enough Jedi and Generals to know they don’t always talk the best care of <em> themselves</em>, not when troopers are injured. Or <em> adike </em> need to be tended too first. </p><p>“But enough we could see her back.”</p><p>“Her skin.”</p><p>“And well.”</p><p>“Uh. It appears the General has, um. Well.”</p><p>“She’s got more tattoos, sir. On her back.”</p><p>“And, the Commander. Well, Commander Wolffe, it.”</p><p>“Gree didn’t handle learning that well,” Wolffe cuts in. He’s glad he’d slide his bucket back on after talking to Ern, before he’d found these two cackling like mad. Clearly the Elite Corps were just as well aware of Gree’s crush, as his batch mates were. Smirking, Wolffe lets himself wonder about roping in a few of the <em> vod’ika </em> into maybe helping him win the betting pool, but lets it go almost immediately. </p><p>It’d be too much of a hassle, and while Wolffe is known for his boundless patiences on the battlefield, he knows himself well enough to know he lacks it for nearly <em> everything </em> else in life.</p><p>He nods, dismissing them before spinning on his heel, making his way back towards where he’s sure Gree is still banging his head against his bucket, deciding on his course of action. He <em> could </em> leave it alone, let Gree work through this all on his own. </p><p>It’s what he’d done with Bly… or well, what he’d <em> planned </em> to do for Bly, until Bly’s own General had solved the problem herself. He <em> could </em> is what he’s saying. </p><p>But. </p><p>But he knows Gree, knows his brother, probably better than any, save Fox and Cody, and knows Gree is better at being blind to the obvious and rooted in his own denial.</p><p>Sighing, Wolffe makes a note to stop by the Wolf Pack and pick up a few flasks of his boys latest batch of rock gut before he finding his <em> vod</em>.</p><p>The rest of the batch was certainly going to owe him one for trying to help — and hopefully — to get Gree to see what the rest of the GAR — and the Jedi Order, if his own General was to by believed — and face his feelings bucket on.</p><p>Sithspawn, he needed a <em> vacation</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><em>vod'ika</em> - Mando'a for basically little brother.<br/><em>vod</em> - Mando'a for brother, sister, comrade, etc...<br/><em>adike</em> - Mando'a for children. </p><p>And I realize that it's not addressed, because this is from Wolffe's point of view, but Luminara definitely feels the same as Gree and is pining, but is also like him and doesn't think it'll ever happen.</p><p> </p><p>I'm Nixie! You can find me where I post the things I <a href="https://nixies-creations.tumblr.com/">create</a>, or at my main blog <a href="http://nixie-deangel.tumblr.com/">here</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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